


The spark of Light

by Lambengolmo



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 13:44:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16430525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lambengolmo/pseuds/Lambengolmo
Summary: After the War of the Ring, Sauron comes to ValinorInspired by this art: https://www.deviantart.com/frecklesordirt/art/Mairon-before-the-judgement-of-Manwe-560129278("Mairon before the judgement of Manwe" by frecklesordirt)





	The spark of Light

_He_ shook, as everything inside and outside _him_ burned and crushed under the immense force. Mount Doom erupted violently, giant waves of fire deluging everything around. The Ring was gone. All _his_ powers were gone. _He_ didn't even have a name anymore - it was destroyed like everything else about _him_. All _he_ knew now was pain - and this pain was like nothing _he_ experienced before. In that moment, fading, dying and seeing _his_ realm die with him, _he_ turned his gaze to the only place _he_ could still remember. _He_ thought himself to Valinor.

_He_ didn't know how much time passed, moments or eons, but eventually _he_ found himself at the foot of Taniquetil. _He_ looked up, at the snow-covered top, hiding in the clouds, at the Halls of the Elder King. Everything there was so white, so pristine. Soon, this sacred realm would be tainted with _his_ blood and with the Darkness of _his_ spirit.   
_He_ knew what awaited _him_ there, what _his_ doom would be. The cruel, hopeless Void, the anguish of non-existence - _he_ wanted it as much as _he_ dreaded it. Not as punishment - though the feeble spark of the Eternal Fire within _him_ told _him_ that _he_ deserved it - but as a way to lose himself, to completely dissolve and forget about everything _he_ was and everything _he_ felt. Wishing it all to be over, with the final effort _he_ thought himself to the Halls.

When _he_ dared to open _his_ eyes, _he_ stood before the throne of the Elder King. All _he_ could see were white stairs and the edge of a white garment, but even this sight overwhelmed _him_ completely. _He_ fell to _his_ knees, reaching out with the bloodied hand, not even knowing what for, already realizing there was nothing for _him_ to hold onto, when Manwë reached back and gently took _his_ wrist. 

At the touch of one of the Powers _his_ spirit burned, not the way _he_ feared it would, and yet painfully - the spark of the Eternal Fire within _him_ grew brighter and stronger, banishing the Darkness. _He_ fought it with all _his_ remaining strength. _He_ needed _his_ Darkness. It was the only thing left that _he_ could call _his_ own. This little spark of Light, the gift of Eru, was completely alien to _him_ by now. _He_ rejected it a long time ago and didn't understand why it lived yet within _his_ dark, nearly dead spirit. 

"Oh, child," Manwë spoke softly above _him_ , and _he_ cowered as if this softness was an enormous weight. "What have you done to yourself." 

_He_ couldn't answer that. There was nothing to say. 

"The Void," _he_ croaked instead, barely audible. 

The other gentle hand took _him_ by the chin, turning _his_ face up. Now _he_ had no choice but to look Manwë right in the face.

"No, child," the eyes of the Elder King shone bright. "You don't belong there."

It was impossible to argue with the Power, but _he_ did:

"T-the Void," _he_ repeated, not lowering _his_ gaze and nearly fainting from the effort. "There is nothing... left for me here. I need..."

"Oh, but there is," Manwë interrupted, taking _his_ face with both hands and slowly wiping the blood and tears from it. "You will see. You will learn. There is so much more than your pain."

But there wasn't. _He_ knew it for a long, long time. Since _he_ joined _his_ Master, _he_ belonged to the Darkness and the Void, and the pain.  

"You are not his slave anymore," Manwë answered _his_ thoughts. "You should have never been made into one. We were all created to be free," he added bitterly, looking at _him_ with unbearable compassion. 

"I was free in my choice to follow him," _he_ whispered. "And look what I have become. I do not deserve anything but the Void, I do not wish for anything else, you must…"

Manwë shook his head. 

"You are not his slave anymore," he repeated. 

Something angry and bitter rose within _him_ , drowning _his_ thoughts in Darkness. _He_ pushed Manwë's hands off _his_ face, pressing _his_ nails into the soft palms, wishing to hurt, to draw blood, to twist and break this body like so, so many others _he_ 'd broken, forgetting that the fana of a Vala was nearly impossible to destroy. There was so much anger and hate inside of _him_.

"I won't be your slave either!" _he_ hissed. "I rejected you and followed my Master! You won't lure me back to your feet with your smooth words and false promises! You call me free but do not allow me my free will. Are you a liar or a hypocrite?"

Manwë didn't even flinch when _he_ tried to hurt him. Now he seemed to actually consider _his_ question.

"I am none of that, no," he said finally, calmly and with utter honesty, like someone who had just learned the answer himself. "I do not tell lies, nor do I deceive or plan to deceive anyone in any way, as the Marring have not touched me yet. But whether you should be cast out into the Timeless Void is not your decision to make."

"Who decides it, then?" _he_ spat out. " You, King?" 

"No," Manwë answered simply. "Eru does."

Everything within _him_ stilled with dread at these words, as the realization hit: there was really no way out for _him_ , no way to flee this suffering. _He_ will have to live on in this world. Suddenly, all _his_ strength left _him_. _He_ bowed forward, resting _his_ head on _his_ knees.

"What will you do to me?" _he_ asked weakly.

"I do not know yet," Manwë answered. "This must be decided by the Council of Kings and Queens at the Ring of Doom. For now, child, you must know that we are not cruel. We want you to heal and learn from your mistakes."

"I will not heal from this. There is nothing left in me to heal."

The Elder King sighed, and the light breeze ruffled _his_ hair.

"Poor child, how much you must have suffered to believe this lie," there was so much grief in Manwë's voice that _he_ couldn't take it anymore.

"Please," _he_ whispered, covering _his_ face with _his_ hands. "Please…"

_He_ didn't even know what _he_ was asking for. Please, let me go? They wouldn’t let _him_ go, not now and not ever, _he_ was stuck in their world which _he_ once wanted to rule and which now was to become _his_ prison.

Please, don't hurt me? They would not do that either, the spark of Light within _him_ told _him_ , and, for the first time in many eons, _he_ believed it.

"Please, help me," _he_ finished, hopelessly.

"Yes, child, I will." Manwë told him. 

_He_ raised _his_ head: 

"You promise?"

"I promise," Manwë answered, and in these words _he_ suddenly heard the echo of another voice, which resonated with the spark of the Eternal Fire within _him_ , making _his_  spirit tremble with awe and, as impossible as it was, joy. "All will be well."

_He_ wouldn’t believe the King, but _he_ couldn't not believe the other voice, for such was its power.

_He_ nodded, bowing _his_ head to _his_ knees again.

"I want to rest," _he_ complained. "I am so tired."

"Then rest," _he_ felt Manwë's hand touch the nape of _his_ neck, and suddenly _his_ eyelids were very heavy. "Rest and heal."

_He_ wanted to say something, to argue about healing again, but sleep took upon _him_ , engulfing _his_ consciousness in a soft grey wave, and _he_ knew no more.

 

 


End file.
